And that's where I am at now. Every Saturday is the same damn thing. It's the one day I have some time to myself. The kids are at their dads. Justin sleeps til 11 on Saturdays. Here I am with several hours to do what I want, and I do the same thing each week. In about one hour there will be laundry done. Water changed in the frog tanks. Dishwasher emptied. Blog reading. Today I actually broke with tradition and put on the NIN DVD instead of listening to Incubus's Morning View for the 8.000th time. I feel out of sorts now. I am a creature of habit.

And really, what else is there to do so early on a weekend morning? It's not like I can go anywhere. I could read, watch a movie, clean out some closets, work on the school reading project. I could, but I won't. I'll sit here in front of the computer, getting up only occassionaly to refill the coffee or put some dishes away. Justin will get up eventually and we will clean up a bit more, shower, get dressed and go out. We will spend money on toys and games and unhealthy food and come home around dinner time. We will watch a movie together and then I will go online and do all the checking of blog related things and make another post. I will pass out on the couch before Saturday Night Live gets past the monologue. At some point in the evening there will be sex and cigarettes and perhaps a few glasses of wine. Maybe the wine comes before the sex.

Tonight I get to break with routine. I'm going to a wake. Woohoo! There's living it up for you. There's a bar next door to the funeral parlor and maybe I will have a drink with my sisters or cousins. Maybe.

I want to do something different. I need to do something different. There are always chances to break the cycle. We should go visit Justin's mother in Pennsylvania one weekend. We should go to a movie instead of watching one at home. We should go to the city for comic book shopping. But every time the situation presents itself to do something different, I think of reasons not to. Let's face it. I'm a homebody. I would rather sit here in my comfortable clothes and play video games and watch cartoons than have to put on something decent and hop on a train. My weekdays are a blur of work, kids, cleaning, cooking, homework, projects, school functions, more work. The days fly by. I want to do nothing on the weekends. Yet I feel guilty for doing nothing. I feel like I should be living it up, having an exciting life.

I'm going to make more of an effort to make today different than all the other Saturdays before it. We will go somewhere different, try a new restaurant, have sex in the living room instead of the bedroom. Maybe go out tonight instead of the afternoon. Maybe we will buy something besides movies and video games and comic books. Maybe we could go out east and stare at the water and the boats and walk along the shore or go to the aquarium. Maybe we could invite my sister and her husband over for dinner. Maybe. I'll think it over.

Damn, it's 6:30. Time to put the laundry in and feed the frogs before 7:00 gets here and I have to empty the dishwasher.